Find Her Alive (Detective Josie Quinn #8) - Lisa Regan Page 0,59
press didn’t bite, and he stopped killing. Until now.”
“Why did he start again?” Mettner asked to no one in particular.
Drake said, “Because Trinity drew him out.”
“Trinity drew him out,” Gretchen said, “But he was killing long before she made contact, and he would probably have killed again even if she hadn’t made contact. For all we know, he’s been killing nonstop since 2014 but not putting any of his victims on display, so no one is the wiser.”
Josie could tell by the look on Drake’s face, as though he’d been slapped, that he didn’t like this idea—because it was likely true.
“The psychological profile—what else does it say?” she asked. “Besides him being an almost forty-year old white male with some college and a higher than average IQ? Does it mention the possibility that he has a job that involves driving? He’d have to, wouldn’t he? His victims are all over the place.”
“Yes,” Drake said, turning his attention back to Josie. “We believe his job involves him driving but with very little oversight, which he will prefer because he won’t like having a supervisor. He’ll always believe he is smarter and better qualified. He likely drives a pretty nondescript vehicle but one that could accommodate his activities, so a van or a pickup truck but likely an older model, nothing that would draw a great deal of attention. Also, he is someone who is quite comfortable outdoors and with animals.”
Drake pushed the report across the table to Josie. “Look, you can read that yourself, but none of it has ever helped us find this guy.”
Josie’s cell phone rang. Everyone stared at her as she pulled it out of her pocket. “It’s Shannon,” she said, hyper aware of everyone’s gaze boring into her as she swiped Answer.
“Josie?” Shannon said. “You there?”
“Yes, what’s going on? Are you still in Callowhill?”
“We are. Is there any word?”
Josie’s eyes were drawn to the photos spread across the table. The ghastly displays that the killer considered art. Her stomach turned. “No word,” Josie said. “My team is still running down leads. Did you find the letters?”
“No, I’m sorry. We’ve got the whole attic turned upside down. There’s nothing here. Christian checked our old things as well, thinking maybe one of us kept them since they were part of her therapy, but they’re not here.”
“What about the therapist?” Josie asked. “Maybe we can get in touch with him or her.”
Silence filled the line. After a beat, Shannon said, “That’s not possible. We had the same thought, so Christian Googled her. We were just looking for her phone number. We figured we’d call her as soon as her office opened, but all we found was her obituary.”
“Oh God.”
“I’m so sorry, Josie. She wasn’t very young when Trinity saw her. Apparently, she developed ALS—Lou Gehrig’s disease—in her later years and died of complications from that. What do we do?”
“I guess just come back then. You can stay with me. Lisette’s in the guest bedroom, but we can figure something out. I—”
She broke off. Lisette’s words from earlier whispered in her ear. You know her well enough, Josie… she was trying to tell you something, dear. Point you in a direction.
“Josie?” Shannon asked, her voice reedy.
“I’m here,” she replied quickly. “Shannon, the letters that Trinity wrote to me for her therapist—were they in shorthand?”
“Well, no. The therapist read them. They were like a homework assignment.”
“Did you ever read them?”
“No. Trinity asked her therapist if she could keep them private from us. She said it was bad enough that she had to show them to the therapist. Neither one of them shared them with us, but we thought Trinity kept them. Why?”
“I need to come there.”
“Josie,” Noah said. “It’s 11:30 at night.”
Ignoring him, she told Shannon, “Stay there, would you? I’m going to drive down. Try to get some rest. Sleep, if you can. I’ll see you soon.”
“Boss,” Gretchen said when Josie hung up. “You need to rest as well.”
Josie stood up. “I’ll sleep when I get there, okay? I promise. There’s something I need to do.”
“Will someone tell me what letters you’re all talking about?” Drake asked.
Josie said, “Mett can fill you in. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Josie,” Noah said. “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” she said, even though she wanted him to go with her, badly. “I need you here with my grandmother and Trout.” She looked at Mettner. “I need to tell Shannon and Christian about the Bone Artist.”